When I use my washing machine or dishwasher, I should at least be aware that many people's work, many hours of their lives, were spent to make them. I should try to purchase things as well as I can that are made in places that uphold the dignity of the laborer and their labor. And I should consider whether I need to get off my butt and try doing some hard labor myself, because what else am I really doing with my time? What am I saving my labor for?
Before 7am on Thursday, they began to prepare 13th street. They chalked designs, carted bags of wood chips, and spread colors for 12 hours till the bells chimed for Mass and they rushed to wash their stained blue fingers, tie their hair into braids, and wash their perspired faces. An hour later, a crowd poured into the street, treading atop the hard day’s work and singing hymns as they followed the King and His canopy. Then it was finished, and the boys started shoveling it away. By midnight, only dull remnants of chalk were left, the choir’s echoes were gone like dissipated fog, and the street was ready for tomorrow’s business as usual.